


Latkes

by nagisa-sensei (komaedakibou)



Category: South Park
Genre: Fluff, Hanukkah, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 01:28:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13043679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/komaedakibou/pseuds/nagisa-sensei
Summary: Stan has a plan to make his Hanukkah with Kyle extra special.





	Latkes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mediocrewriterboy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mediocrewriterboy/gifts).



> oops my hand slipped many times and accidentally produced a holiday season fic for my bro whom I love very much;;

As heavy snowfall covered the quaint mountain town they lived in with a thicker blanket of snow than it normally did, Stan cursed his decision to procrastinate his responsibilities until the last possible moment. Even for South Park, the snow was piling up to a harmful degree, almost making it impossible to get around the town by car or foot.

That didn’t stop him from trudging his way to his car in order to attempt to drive all the way to the other side of town though. Even if he mentally screamed the entire way there, outwardly he was the epitome of coolness. The panic threatening to consume him never surfaced, though it threatened to encourage him to curl up in the snow and cry until he froze to death.

Just add procrastinating so hard that he had no choice but to drive out into a potential blizzard to his long list of ways he’d managed to make his life a lot harder than it needed to be.

The combination of procrastination and laziness was a bitch, especially when a cute and very warm boy easily distracted him. How was he supposed to just ignore the bright smile that looked like an angel’s and the way he offered a seat next to him by patting the sofa? A guy can’t be blamed for giving into that temptation and accidentally forgetting everything else, right?

__Right._ _

At any rate, if the snow wasn’t enough punishment, he’d also never hear the end of Kyle’s scolding once he got back home. It might not come straight away, but rest assured he’d hear something before the day was done.

Ike was visiting for the duration of Hanukkah, so he’d talked extensively to him about his plans beforehand; it gave him some help and he wouldn’t be detected as missing instantly, but he was sure it wouldn’t take Kyle long to figure out his entire boyfriend was strangely absent from their home.

So, with the thought of his boyfriend in mind, he rushed through his responsibilities as quickly as he could and almost shed literal tears when nothing got in his way. He’d been sure that __something__  would happen, but the trips he made were event-less and convenient for maybe the first time in his life.

The ride back felt longer than the way there, but he attributed that to how desperate he was to be inside. It was cold as fuck and he was shaking even with the heat on, his clothes feeling awkward from how drenched and damp they were. The distance felt agonising, and his eyes darting to his phone for any calls or texts probably didn’t help in the slightest.

As soon as he pulled into their driveway, all thoughts of secretion lost by his hurry, he flew out of the car in a heartbeat. The door slammed shut behind him as he opened the back to take out all the shopping bags, carelessly scooping them all up and hugging them to his chest as he fumbled with the keys and tried to lock it up.

There wasn’t that much he bought - most of it being groceries and a few extra important things - but he really didn’t want to go back out into the cold. Plus, he just hated not being convenient in general; if he could carry it all in one go, you bet your ass he’ll do anything in his power to do exactly that, even if it killed him.

It was just a bit awkward to carry it all the way he did, but he was already dedicated and it was too late to turn back. He’d done the exact same thing countless times before, so it wasn’t that big of a deal… he just wondered how he’d get the front door open since he didn’t factor in that important task.

“Stan!” The door opened, making him feel both blessed and worried. It was hard to tell if his boyfriend was upset, his figure stepping outside in a flashy menorah sweater and a scarf held tightly in his hands. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, man? You’ll get sick so give me something to carry and get the hell inside to warm up, dumbass.”

Closing the distance between them and throwing the collected scarf around his boyfriend a bit tighter than necessary, Kyle huffed in annoyance and took some bags from him without waiting for a reply.

Normally Stan would protest or at least put up some sort of a fight, but this time he just accepted his fate and retreated to the house gratefully.

It made Kyle worry as he trailed behind him, but any sympathy he had disappeared the moment that Stan dropped all of the contents of the shopping bags he was holding unceremoniously onto the kitchen counter. A chorus of loud noises rang through the room and made Kyle flinch, his eyes narrowing as he carefully placed the bags he’d taken down like a normal person.

“Sorry,” Stan said sheepishly, moving to give some semblance of order to the range of ingredients now on the counter. It was a complete failure from start to finish, but he persisted until Kyle placed a hand on his to stop him. “So, what are we making and when are we making it? We should probably get Ike to help out as well, do you want me to go get hi-”

“Nope.”

The firm finality to Kyle’s response caught him off guard, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Eyebrows furrowing in confusion, he looked to the items in front of him before turning to the frown on his boyfriend’s face before pouting.

“Aw, but babe-”

“No, Stan.”

“I want to help!”

“Dude,” Kyle pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath as though he were recalling a traumatic event. “Do you __remember__  what happened the last time you thought it was a good idea to try cooking something?”

“I mean,” scratching the back of his neck, all he could really remember was screaming and hating himself because he was convinced he’d just murdered three people, one of them being his loving boyfriend. “…It wasn’t __that__  bad.”

It was that bad, but there was no way he was about to admit that. Besides, cooking with Kyle couldn’t possibly end as badly as any of his attempts with Craig went…

“Tweek and I had to call the fire department and you almost killed us all… not once, not twice, but __three times,__ ” Kyle said humourlessly, ignoring the pout and puppy dog eyes desperately trying to convince him to forget about past mistakes. “You and Craig attempted and failed to make brownies **_**_three consecutive times in one day_**_**. There is absolutely no fucking way I want you anywhere even remotely near the kitchen when Ike and I cook.”

Deflating from the rejection, his pout grew even stronger even if it wasn’t effective.

“Weak,” Stan put a hand over his chest in mock hurt, using the other to wipe away nonexistent tears. “My own boyfriend is exiling me because of one-” a hard glare made him gulp and rethink his word choice with a cough, “ _ _three__ mistakes I made ages ago. But babe, I was cooking with __Craig__  and he sucks. So you can’t really blame me, can you?”

“You both suck at cooking, so I can and will blame you one-hundred percent. Don’t think I’ll change my mind just because it’s only you here, I know how badly you can mess this up all on your own.”

“...But I’m with you?”

“The answer is still no, Stan,” Kyle huffed, his tone turning more theatrical and teasing as he spoke. “It pains me to do this, but your hands are cursed. The chance of the things you touch becoming ruined is just too high, and I can’t take that risk.”

“You weren’t complaining about my hands last ni-”

“Before you finish that sentence, I’m going to say right now that if you don’t get out then I’m calling Ike in here to escort you out by force if he has to.”

Gasping and shaking his head in disbelief, Stan chewed on his bottom lip. After the last time he was in the kitchen he couldn’t blame him for being cautious, but to deny him a chance to cook with him on Hanukkah? It was a cruel fate that he didn’t deserve. Well… he probably did deserve it, but still.

“You wound me so much. I beg you to reconsider.”

“ _ _Ike!__ ”

Letting out a small and frustrated sigh, he left the room just as Ike appeared and sent the younger boy a playful glare that was returned.

There was no way that he wasn’t going back into the kitchen to pester them, but he figured he’d get changed out of his snow-covered ice cold clothes first and foremost. They felt gross and prevented him from getting cuddles, so they needed to go.

Quickly rummaging through their clothes, he found an ugly sweater that would compliment Kyle’s quite nicely and a pair of sweatpants that he changed into before wrapping the scarf he’d been given around his neck properly. Converting some objects from the pants he’d worn outside into the new pants he was wearing, he threw the cold clothes into a hamper quickly.

Then back he went, barreling into the kitchen like an overexcited puppy and carefully hugging Kyle from behind before he could complain. Resting his chin on the other’s shoulder, he looked over to see what progress the two had made after he left.

“Hey, I love you,” Stan mumbled, pecking his cheek quickly once he knew his boyfriend wasn’t holding a knife or something dangerous. “So, now will you tell me what you’re cooking?”

“...Latkes,” Kyle replied softly, raising a hand to pat Stan’s head before washing his hands and picking up some eggs to crack. To their left, Ike had potatoes and onions ready to be grated and had paused to look over at the two of them with a small smirk. “Love you too, but I can’t work that well with your clinging to me like that.”

“Aw, but you’re just working on the eggs,” he whined, tightening his grip. “I drove out into that shitty snow so you could make these, so you better bet I’m going to stand here and hug you the entire time. I’m still cold as fuck. And I missed you.”

“I don’t want to bump you. And I’m not the one who left shopping to the last moment, you dork.” Kyle acted annoyed, but the smile and light blush on his face betrayd him. “You have no one to blame but yourself for anything you experienced out in the cold, cruel snow.”

“So considerate, and yet also mean in the same sentence. I’d die for you and this is the thanks I get?”

Kyle just scoffed, gently nuzzling his cheek against Stan’s before focusing on preparing the food in silence.

True to his word, he didn’t budge an inch and held onto his boyfriend tightly. The sweet and all too familiar smell of Kyle made him relax and slump against the other just the slightest bit, a small and content sigh slipping through his lips.

It was moments like just then where he really stopped to appreciate how lucky he was. As a child, he never thought he’d actually live with and fall in love with his super best friend, yet there they were. Happily together, like it was meant to be, and he couldn’t imagine it any other way.

“Let’s play dreidel after this,” Ike’s voice cut through his thoughts, making him perk up and be alert once again. He had no idea how long he’d been zoning out for, but it seemed like they were just about done with the preparations. “It’ll be a way to pass time while the latkes are frying… though one of us will have to check them regularly.”

It felt as though time topped as he awaited Kyle’s response, his heart beating erratically in his chest. Needless to say, he was much more nervous about a harmless game of dreidel than anyone in their right might be, but he had his reasons.

The game was something he was going to suggest himself after they’d eaten, especially since they hadn’t played it once since Hanukkah started. With the way Ike was looking at him though, it seemed like the younger Broflovski thought he’d chicken out if he was left to his own devices… which he might have, but that was besides the point.

Stan wasn’t ready. He was a bundle of anxiety and nerves, and those feelings only amplified at the prospect of playing so suddenly.

“Sound like fun,” Kyle eventually replied as he finished up with the eggs, sending Stan a strange look when he tensed up finally let go and stepped away. “…We can just play in here so we can keep an eye on the food at the same time.”

He knew he was acting suspiciously, but he was desperate to distract his mind. Suddenly being so close to Kyle was nerve-wracking and certainly not helpful. So he thought quickly of a way to cover it up, hopefully making it seem like he was just excited to have a task to do in the kitchen.

“Since I don’t have a job, I’ll set it up!” He said a bit too hastily, noticing Kyle’s eyes narrow in suspicion. “I’ll be right back.”

Rushing to do exactly as he said, he slowed down once he was back. Taking his time, it was easy to set up plates and utensils on one side of the table for the three of them and then the game on the other. It calmed him down enough to get his thoughts together, but definitely not enough.

For the duration of the game, his eyes kept flickering back to Kyle and the dreidel. Anticipation welled up within him, making him hold his breath each and every time it was his boyfriend’s turn. Ike had appointed himself as the watcher of the latkes, sending glares to Stan every now and then and telling him to get his shit together without words.

When Kyle finally spun the dreidel and it landed on __gimel__ , Stan swore his heart literally stopped in his chest.

“Y-You won everything!” Stan exclaimed quickly, startling Kyle in the process. Reaching into his pocket and pulling out the golden but not too flashy ring he’d bought the other, he casually slipped it into the pile of winnings and tried to act cool. “Even… me. Forever. If you want.”

The sound of Ike face-palming was loud in the silence as Stan looked at Kyle’s inexpressive face nervously. The… proposal, if it could even be called that, was __not__  meant to be done like that. He’d practiced many lines to say and had settled on one along the lines of ‘you’ve won everything, including my heart’ followed by a ‘will you marry me?’, but his brain clearly didn’t want to cooperate with him and he didn’t want to lose his chance.

“...I can’t believe you,” Kyle eventually said once he looked away from the ring on the table, covering his face as it reddened. “You’re such a dork, I can’t believe it.”

Laughing nervously, Stan rubbed his neck. That didn’t answer his question, so he decided to ask again. Maybe in a better way.

“Kyle, will you marry me?” He tried again, picking up the ring and doing a classic one-knee proposal. “I know marriage is like… a catholic thing, so if you don’t want to like get _married_ married that’s cool, I just want to let you know that I love you a lot and I really want to be with you and let you know how serious I am about it. About us.”

Bursting out into laughter, Kyle quickly rubbed his cheeks and flicked Stan on the forehead. Pressing a kiss to the same spot, he let his laughter die down before replying.

“Of course I will. I love you and your stupidity so much, it kind of amazes me, really.”


End file.
